


Twas the Night Before...

by Ajisai



Category: Sleepy Hollow (TV)
Genre: Christmas Presents, Gen, Humor, Ichabod Crane vs. the 21st Century
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-12
Updated: 2015-01-12
Packaged: 2018-03-07 06:21:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3164501
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ajisai/pseuds/Ajisai
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ichabod Crane has faced many challenges over the years, but the most daunting by far is finding an appropriate Christmas present for his friend and fellow Witness, Abbie Mills.  Fortunately, Jenny Mills is just the person to help him with this formidable task!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Twas the Night Before...

“Miss Jenny?”

She glanced up from her reading. Crane was standing in front of the table looking uncomfortable. _Or_ , she thought, _more uncomfortable than usual_. He peered over her shoulder nervously, looking for something.

“What is it?”

“I, ah, need your help. In a timely fashion. The matter is an urgent one.”

“All right.” He had her attention now. _It’s probably something to do with the fight against evil, possibly an obscure artifact that would help us defeat the forces of darkness—_

Crane took a deep breath and lowered his voice to a whisper. “I need you to accompany me to procure a Christmas gift, for the leftenant. I have very little idea of what would be considered appropriate in this time, and I suspect that my ideas would be met with ridicule.”

“You mean, like the soap incident?”

A flicker of weary annoyance passed over his face. “Will everyone, as you are so fond of saying in this era, just ‘let it go?’ In my day, soap was a precious commodity, much sought after—“

Jenny held up her hands in mock-surrender. “No, no, please, not the soap lecture again. Of course I’ll help you find a gift for Abbie. Let me get my coat.”

“Excellent,” he said, his expression brightening. “Where do you suggest we go?”

This brought her to a full stop, one arm into the coat’s sleeve. A quick glance at the calendar made her stomach lurch. “Crane, you’re a brave man, right?”

“I believe—that is, I would like to believe that I am. Why do you ask?”

“Because we need to travel to the darkest place, the worst location on earth at this time of year. The mall.”

**~~~**

“Finally, a parking space.” Jenny exhaled, willing her blood pressure to go back to normal levels. “That was terrifying.”

“I find it surprising, Miss Jenny, that you’ve negotiated with armed militias and completed the Sheriff’s assignments to procure priceless relics, yet the mall renders you petrified.” The screech of brakes nearby startled him and he met her skeptical gaze. “Although I do confess that your paranoia may be well-placed.”

_It’s difficult to explain_ , she thought as they navigated the parking lot together, narrowly avoiding a stroller with a squalling baby in it in one lane, and a fender-bender’s aftermath in the next. _At Tarrytown, I was, effectively, a prisoner, but at least I knew the schedule. Everything had a season and a rhythm. Even before that, Corbin’s assignments put me in control, even in states of chaos._

_The mall, especially right now, is a big storm of chaos that no one’s in control of, with too much season and no rhythm._

“Have you thought about what present you’d like to get Abbie?” She asked, mostly to stop any unpleasant memories that invariably started to well up when she thought about the institution.

“I’ve no idea, unfortunately. What are you going to do?”

The mall beckoned, loudly, with speakers blaring, “Santa Claus is Coming to Town.” Jenny opened the first door that she saw, barely registering the white star on red background and the store’s name. “I guess I don’t know. I haven’t gotten her a present since we were kids together.”

“What did you give her then?”

“A friend’s unwanted Cabbage Patch doll, I think.” Seeing his look of confusion, she shook her head. “No time to explain. Let’s look around here. A department store is probably as good a place as any to start.”

**(10 Minutes Later)**

“Women walk in these?” Crane held up one of a pair of black stilettos as if it was a day-old, very smelly fish. “How—why—?”

“Correction: women don’t walk in those. They just stand around and look pretty. We’re moving on now.” Jenny took Crane by the arm and steered him out of the shoe area before the annoyed salesperson could berate him for messing up the display.

**(20 Minutes After That)**

“What a strange, fascinating machine. Dials and spigots and an odd little grate… what’s it for?”

“That’s an espresso maker.”

Crane’s eyes lit up. “She likes that! That would make an excellent gift for her.”

“It’s expensive,” Jenny said, pointing at the price tag. “Do you have three hundred dollars and change?”

“Regrettably, no. The police consulting jobs do not pay as well as I would hope, and I’ve imposed far too much on your sister already, monetarily speaking.”

“It was a good idea. Let’s table it for her birthday,” Jenny suggested, wishing that she had enough money herself to chip in.

**(10 Minutes After the Kitchenware Department)**

“A stuffed… bear.” They were standing to one side in the toy department and watching a man buy a woman a teddy bear that was holding a small heart. Crane stared intently at the scene unfolding in front of them, frowning the way he did when there was a puzzle he couldn’t solve. “They are adults, and yet he is buying her a toy bear.”

“It’s cute.”

“If a man gave one to you, would you be as happy as she?” Crane motioned as the couple left, the woman hugging the man with one arm, and the toy with the other, laughing. “People express their affections so openly. It’s… different.”

Jenny shrugged. “I guess so. I don’t usually go for guys who are into teddy bears, but it would be nice, maybe. I dunno.”

Crane looked uncertainly around the rest of the toy department. “These are all very complicated things. Are there no toy soldiers? Dolls?”

“Oh, those still exist… just not the way you expect them to.”

He grinned ruefully. “I am well aware of this feeling, Miss Mills. Very few things exist the way that I expect them to.”

**(5 Minutes Later, Ground Floor)**

“Would you like to try a sample?” The woman who was approaching them was holding out a fancy bottle of something that Jenny didn’t recognize, and for a second, she nearly recoiled at its heavy, overly rosy scent.

“No thanks.”

“How about you, sir? What would your girlfriend like? This is very floral—“

Crane coughed. “No, thank you, madam, I—“

“This one is very popular!” The sales lady was undeterred. “It’s black in the bottle, like this, see? But it sprays on clear! It’s very popular this year.”

Jenny tried to intercede. “Sorry, we’re not buying for—“

“Oh, you’re here to buy something for **him**!” The sales lady gave her a forced, knowing look. “Step over to this counter. I should have known you were trying to find your handsome boyfriend something nice.”

“He’s not—“

“You misunderstand—“ Crane and Jenny spoke together, but to no avail.

“Try this! This is, Number 6, one of the oldest scents in America, as popular today as it was when it was introduced.”

Reluctantly, Crane took the card that she held out, sniffing cautiously. Then an odd look came over his face as he said, “I know this scent. Rosemary, orange, bergamot… this is very familiar.”

“Well done, sir! You know your fragrances—“

“General Washington wore this. Not as refined as this, of course, but this scent. I never thought—I can’t believe I’m smelling it again.”

The sales lady paused, her cheerful routine disrupted. “Ah… the gentleman knows his cologne history, I believe. Yes, it was a favorite of George Washington’s. I like to believe it’s the smell of the American Revolution… well, the American spirit, at least.”

“The smell of the revolution?” Crane looked at her doubtfully. “I must object to that interpretation—“

Jenny suddenly found herself trying not to laugh. The situation was so preposterous, so ridiculous that she could barely begin to explain to herself why it seemed so funny. Instead of laughing, though, she quickly decided to stop any further awkward conversation and let Crane keep his dignity. “Oh, look at the time! We should be going.” She pulled him away from the counter and out of the store.

Once they were outside, Crane gently tugged his arm out of her grip. “While I appreciate your attempts to keep the conversation civil, I’d like to remind you I’m capable of fighting my own battles.”

“I understand that, but against rabid perfume salesladies? You looked like you could use a little help.”

“Well… I can’t say that I didn’t appreciate the quick exit.” He smiled, but then grew confused again. “I find it strange how people of this time view the past. The scent of the Revolution was nowhere near as pleasant as that bottled fragrance.”

Pretending to be very interested in a loose thread on her jacket, she cleared her throat. “What was it like, the smell of the Revolution?”

“Gunpowder. Gunpowder, sweat, and in the summer, more sweat and brackish water. Blood, fresh and dried. The forest, oak and elm, and earth. How strange—it sounds like I have listed the ingredients for one of Katrina’s spells. I remember as if it were yesterday, but so much more time has passed. How utterly odd this is, like being a component in a spell being cast.”

She nodded in agreement. “Sometimes I feel the same way, Crane. I didn’t lose hundreds of years, but when I got out of… that place, it was like I’d traveled through time. Everything had changed. It was like another planet.”

They stood together for a moment, a quiet rock in the river of people flowing in and out of the store. Eventually, Jenny looked up and saw something that cheered her immensely. “I think I’ve found the solution to our problems. Let’s get out of here.”

**(10 Minutes Later, Star Books, Across the Highway from the Mall)**

“Something for everyone, and almost nothing to break the bank.” Jenny gestured in happy relief at the shelves, only to see that Crane wasn’t listening to her and was already walking towards the shelf marked ‘classics.’

Mercifully, there was only chamber music playing as she drifted through the store, the loud holiday carols left behind at the stores on the other side. As she neared the children’s department, she overheard two parents deep in discussion of books they were planning to buy for their children, and she paused, unsure whether to be charmed or envious, or perhaps both. _OK_ , she thought, _if I wanted to capture the best part of our childhood for Abbie, what would I choose?_

About ten minutes later, Jenny found Crane next to a pile of books, his brow furrowed. “This store is amazing. All my favorite writers are here: Descartes, Bacon, Newton… and so inexpensive.”

Jenny smiled. “Any luck finding something for Abbie?”

“Yes. I believe she will find these essays by Voltaire to be both thought-provoking and helpful. How about you? Did you find what you were looking for?”

She motioned at her own pile of books. “We read these as children. I thought she might like to read them again.”

“ Roll of Thunder, Hear My Cry; Children’s Best Bible Stories; Harriet the Spy… these are diverse titles, but I’m sure the two of you have excellent taste, even as children,” he said. “Thank you, Miss Mills. This has been a most enlightening trip.”

“No problem,” she replied, making sure to hide the copy of Stranger in a Strange Land that she was planning to give him underneath her arm. “That was actually kind of fun—after the initial culture shock wore off.”

“I believe that statement accurately summarizes my thoughts about the year 2014.”

“Mine, too,” she replied, glad to have a friend who understood her at a level others did not.

**Author's Note:**

> For alba17's 2014 Fandom_Stocking. Researching this piece was one of the most fun things I've done in a while!
> 
> For those who are interested, Number 6 is a real cologne and is available at Macy's or online. (The general consensus about its scent from the reviews I read is "interestingly citrus-y.") In my research, I found that colonial women made most of their cosmetics by hand (and I'm not going to lie, I've contemplated a sequel to this where Katrina encounters overzealous Clinique ladies.) The other perfume the saleslady try to get them to sample is Lady Gaga's Fame, which is black in the bottle but goes on transparent. I, uhm, secretly love perfumes, OK?
> 
> Thanks to thelittlestbird for initial back and forth about the story's premise. :)


End file.
